


Don't Bother Knocking

by Eowyn (eowynsmusings)



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Drama, Fix-It, M/M, Post BotFA
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 05:48:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2840270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eowynsmusings/pseuds/Eowyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo leaves Erebor before finding out the fate of Thorin and his nephews to try and pick up the pieces of his old life. But letters arriving from the Mountain, letters he doesn't open for fear of what they might contain, make it all but impossible for him to go back to the gentlehobbit he once was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Bother Knocking

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Undomiel_48](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Undomiel_48/gifts).



> Based on a most wonderful painting by [Radiorcrist](http://radiorcrist.tumblr.com/), which I am posting with this story with the artist's permission. Gifted to my beta, who was demanding a story to go with the painting the moment she saw it. And of course to everyone else out there who needs more feels after watching the last movie ;) For this story comes with a big fat FEELS warning, so yeah, don't blame me afterwards ;)  
>   
>  **Disclaimer:** All Tolkien Legendarium characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. No profit is being made, no copyright infringement is intended.  
>   
>  **Beta:** Beta'ed by Undomiel_48 as per usual.

He had left the Mountain as soon as he was able. Thorin, Fíli and Kíli were still fighting for their lives, but the hobbit had not wanted to wait for what was undoubtedly going to happen. How Fíli was still alive at all was beyond the hobbit, and most of the healers as well. But the young dwarf was stubborn it seemed, almost as much as his uncle. And his brother. Kíli was struggling to stay alive as well, though Bilbo could understand what gave the brunette the strength to do so. Tauriel. The elf maiden had not left Kíli's side since the battle had ended and was doing her utmost to save the young dwarf. Maybe he would be lucky. Maybe.  
  
But it wasn't Fíli's or Kíli's fate that drove Bilbo from Erebor. It was Thorin's. The hobbit could still hear the dwarf's words, gentle and full of remorse. "I'm so sorry I led you into such peril." How close had Bilbo come to tell him not only that it had been an honour to share in such perils, but... That he loved the king. His king. The words at the gate, oh, Bilbo couldn't even recall them anymore, and Dwalin had ensured no one else spoke of them. They had all known the hobbit had been right, but had been too cowardly to speak up. But when Bilbo had announced his plans to leave, they did; Balin first and foremost. "You cannot mean that. At least wait until they have woken up again." Dear, dear Balin who wouldn't even contemplate a different outcome. But the hobbit knew that there would be no happy ending to this quest. How could there be? His heart was broken, and would forever remain so. There was only one thing Bilbo regretted now, that he hadn't told Thorin how he had felt about him. How he still felt...  
  
"Tea is at four, there's plenty of it..." He'd said, fighting back his tears. Forcing a smile, he added, "Don't bother knocking." And the remaining dwarves of the Company had bowed to him, Ori openly crying and Dori not far from it. Then he had turned from the great gate of Erebor and not looked back. He had fought to remain cheerful throughout the journey home with Gandalf by his side, for what good would it do to let the wizard see his tears? Oh no. Gandalf thought he was fine, and Bilbo would keep it that way, thank you very much.  
  
He nearly strangled Lobelia when he returned home, finding her busy auctioning off his belongings. And then Master Grubb went for the coup de grâce, asking who Thorin had been. That night, after bringing all of his returned belongings back into his smial, he lay on his bed, crying for hours, holding on to the one thing he had left of ... _his_ dwarf. His mithril shirt.  
  
Letters arrived from the Mountain, and Bilbo knew that, yes, he was being a coward. But he could not bring himself to open them. Letters from Balin and Ori, from Bofur and Dori. And then a few with what could only be a royal seal. The hobbit did not even look at those beyond a cursory glance. The last of them came on his fifty-second birthday, a day he was trying to ignore as much as possible. A raven delivered it, one of Thorin's ravens, and Bilbo could barely close his door before he broke down once more. He could hear the croaking of the bird outside, for it was clearly confused and probably expected if not a reply then at least some food. Unfortunately though, the hobbit could not provide either.  
  
Three months later, after more letters from Balin and Ori, Bilbo was sitting at his table staring down at his plate. He had not been able to eat a proper meal ever since he had returned, and that morning was no different. Glancing out his kitchen window, the hobbit sighed. Clouds were gathering in the skies, and yet there still had not been any snowfall so far. Well, it looked like that was going to change in the very near future. Sighing once more, Bilbo rose to his feet and shook his head at himself. How long was he going to be able to go on like this? How long was he going to be able to pretend that his heart was not utterly broken and that he could ever pick up the pieces of his old life?  
  
A knock on his door rescued him from his musings, and he hurried to the door. Even if it was Lobelia wanting to taunt him again, it would be better than the terrors his own mind came up with. But when he opened the door, he was certain he was seeing things. There, upon his porch, stood none other than Thorin Oakenshield. The dead Thorin Oakenshield, for surely that had been what all those letters had been about. Thorin's death and those of Fíli and Kíli. But ... but the dwarf did not seem dead. Quite the contrary. He looked ... oh, but he looked magnificent in his travelling garb. There was no bundle though, no weapon or shield. Yes, he was definitely daydreaming...

[](http://radiorcrist.tumblr.com/post/105719479666/they-told-me-you-said-dont-bother-knocking-but-i)

"They told me you said don't bother knocking, but I wasn't sure if that invitation included me. So, I knocked." Daydreams of dead dwarves did not speak. Bilbo blinked. And took a step forward. And another. Until the door closed behind him and he stood very nearly chest to chest with the dwarf. The solid dwarf who clearly was not a figment of his imagination. "Bilbo?" And that was that. Propriety be damned and uncaring of what his actions might bring about, the hobbit threw his arms around the dwarf, burying his face in the soft furs he wore. Moments later, he felt Thorin's strong arms envelop him, like they had done what now seemed ages ago on the top of the Carrock. That was when Bilbo began to weep. "Oh, Bilbo," Thorin breathed, and the warmth in the dwarf's voice somehow mended his splintered heart in the span of just a few breaths. "Do not cry, my burglar. Do not cry."  
  
The hobbit wanted to stop, and not only because he was making a spectacle of himself standing there, on his own doorstep, weeping like a babe. What must Thorin be thinking of him? He was acting the fool, and yet the dwarf did not seem to mind. On the contrary. Those big hands were warm and gentle as they stroked the hobbit's back. "How..." Bilbo finally managed in lieu of a proper question.  
  
"I will explain, but first... Master Baggins?" Thorin pulled away ever so slightly, one of his hands coming up to touch the hobbit's chin and tilt his head so they would look at each other. The turmoil of emotions in those blue eyes took Bilbo's breath away. "Would you allow me to come in? I fear you might catch cold, as would your neighbours if they remained outside, gawking at us." The dwarf chuckled good-naturedly, a sound Bilbo could not remember hearing before. But oh, he wanted to hear it again!  
  
And he did when only minutes later he finished fussing over his visitor, setting out a feast before the dwarf. "I remember that I never got to taste any of your cooking as I was late the evening of our first meeting. And the breakfast the innkeeper of the Green Dragon tried to forced me to eat looked nothing as appetising as this." Ah, so that was where Thorin's travelling gear was. Bilbo was about to point out that the king could have just come to his door straight away, bypassing the need to take a room. But then again. Thorin could not have known what welcome he would receive.  
  
The dwarf's eyes sparkled merrily now, and Bilbo's heart was beating in his throat. Or at least that was how it felt. "I thank you for your hospitality, but I believe I owe you an explanation first?" The hobbit nodded, sinking down in his own dining chair. "When I woke, you were gone, and I thought that my words of regret on the battlefield had not been enough to ... to gain your forgiveness. Bilbo, let me tell you again how sorry I am for what transpired at the gate. But I know, I _know_ in my heart that I would not have been able to harm you. I could never do that." There were tears gleaming in those sapphire pools, and Bilbo reached out to touch the dwarf's hand without thinking.  
  
"It's all forgiven. Thorin I knew ... I knew I was stealing from you. But I was so afraid for you. For all of you. I had to do something! I ... I am sorry that I could not find another way..." He looked away then, suddenly afraid.  
  
"You did what only a good friend would do, Bilbo. I believe I told you so already. And ... it is I who needs forgiveness, not you. What I did was a betrayal of our friendship, Bilbo. You only did what you thought was right." Thorin shook his head. "But we can argue about that later. As I was saying, Bilbo, you were gone. Four months gone... I urged Balin to send you word, and so did my nephews." He sighed. "They live, though Kíli clearly has lost his mind. He has gone and declared that the elf... That Tauriel is his One and they are planning to marry." That made Bilbo smile, more than smile. The two young dwarves were alive and well by the sounds of it. And still driving their uncle insane. "He forced my hand, made me accept it, in the most devious way imaginable. He ... he mentioned something I thought I had been able to keep hidden from everyone throughout our journey. Seemingly, I did not. But once again, I will explain that later if you will still listen to me."  
  
"Why would I not?" the hobbit asked, receiving only a huff and a shrug in reply.  
  
"You did not reply to any letter. So Fíli and Kíli sent one each as well. Balin insisted they use the royal seal, which I guess was their mistake. Then I sent a letter as well, but when you did not reply to me, I thought ... I thought you simply would not speak to me. But then, when Roäc returned with word of your reaction, I ... I dared to hope that maybe..." Bilbo blinked and looked up. Thorin was nervous, almost afraid to go on. "I came as soon as I could, leaving Erebor in the hands of Balin and Fíli. If you hated me, you would not have cried when seeing my raven, or so I told myself. And I figured that you didn't know... That you still thought we had perished. You did, didn't you?" The hobbit nodded mutely, barely able to breathe. "When I woke, my first thought was ... of you, Bilbo. Of how I could make amends, proper amends for my misdeeds. And I ... I wanted to ask you about your acorn again, ask you if you would consider planting it not here in Bag End, but in Erebor instead. I wanted to ask you to stay. Ever since the morning on the Carrock if not before. I kept it to myself, and then, when I finally had the right to ask, the ability to ask, you were not there."  
  
Bilbo had to pinch himself. Surely Thorin wasn't suggesting what the hobbit thought he was suggesting. "Thorin? What..." It was a dream. It was all just a beautiful dream, and he clenched his eyes closed not wanting to wake.  
  
"When Kíli spoke of ... his elf ... you know what he said to me? He said that I wouldn't ponder racial differences for one moment if you were still in the Mountain. And I wouldn't have. I ... I know that I have thrown your friendship away the moment I turned on you upon that wall. But would you allow me to at least try and regain it? To be your friend even though I would call you..." He swallowed. Hard. Clearly unable to go on.  
  
"You cannot mean... Thorin, are you..." Great. Bilbo was no better at talking than the dwarf. They made quite the pair. Not that that was what Thorin was getting at, surely not.  
  
"Bilbo, as I lay on the battlefield, thinking I was going to Mahal's Halls, there was but one regret in my heart. That I had never been able to tell the one who holds my heart that I care for him. That I love him. But I was glad as well, for at least I was able to leave him in friendship. I was able to take back my words and deeds... To see you one last time, Bilbo ... it gave me the strength to face whatever I thought would lie ahead. It gave me the strength to fight to stay alive." Thorin's hand suddenly turned to take hold of Bilbo's ... the hobbit had quite forgotten that he was still touching the dwarf ... and squeezed it gently. "I did not dare hope, even on this journey. But I had to see you, at least one more time. Oh, Bilbo, please don't cry. I am sorry. I shouldn't have spoken..."  
  
The hobbit shook his head, smiling through the tears that had started flowing again the moment Thorin had mentioned, well, the 'one who held his heart'. "I am nobody. Just a silly hobbit from the Shire who ran out of his door because he was compelled to do so by the song of a noble dwarven lord. A king. A foolish halfling who would have gladly given his life to save ... _his_ dwarf. Oh, Thorin, I am so sorry. I should have read the letters, I should have. But I was so afraid of learning that you had passed. Fearing it and knowing it are two very different things, you know? And I'm sorry I ran away. I'm so sorry I did not stay."  
  
Thorin rose then from his chair and rounded the table in three long strides. Kneeling before the hobbit, he whispered, "Will you consider returning to Erebor? Plant your acorn upon the slopes of the Mountain?" His voice was shaking as he added, "Will you allow me to do right by my friend, my burglar ... my One?"  
  
Bilbo could not speak. But he could nod, his heart beating as fast as a hummingbird's wings, and slid from his chair and into the dwarf's embrace. Throwing his arms around Thorin's shoulders again, laughing and crying at the same time. Outside, the first snowflakes were falling from grey clouds, but they did not notice. They were too absorbed in their first loving and gentle kiss, gazing into each other's eyes for a long time after they had parted.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr... [Eowyn's Musings](http://eowynsmusings.tumblr.com/). I know, the name's a big surprise :P  
>   
>  Wishing you all a very Merry Christmas, or, as [Bubbysbub](http://archiveofourown.org/users/bubbysbub/pseuds/bubbysbub) put it in her wonderful Yule story [Er... Mistletoe?](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2820644/chapters/6327749), a very Joyous Erujól! (I know I'm linking the story for the second time in two days, but if you still haven't read it, what's wrong with you? :P)


End file.
